Looking in the Mirror
by bonapuella
Summary: A collection of Twilight one-shots. Ch. 3 up: "His throat is searing and he isn’t really thinking anymore...as he leaps over the desk and sinks his teeth into her neck."
1. Charlie Swan Looks in the Mirror

_This is for nadia the demented one's mirror challenge from sillybella's Twilight forum. I'm hoping to make this story a collection of Twilight one-shots and some of them will be challenges from this forum._

_Thanks for reading! Feel free to review!_

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer._

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He pretends not to see the pain. He doesn't succeed.

He can feel the creases in his skin and he can't escape. He can trace the hurt that has been etched into his face. Follow the grief at the edges of his eyes. Outline the heartbreak across his forehead. Sketch the desolation in his cheeks.

Charlie Swan is good at hiding. No one knows how much he hurts. No one knows that he cried every night for the first two years. No one knows that he still sleeps on one side of the bed, leaving her side open. No one knows how he still wakes up each morning, expecting to hear the soft pattern of her breathing instead of the endless drone of rain. No one cares.

Charlie Swan is good at hiding from others, but he can't hide from himself. He can't escape the anguish she has caused or the life she has destroyed.

The depth of his pain penetrates to the very core of his being, all the way through his heart. In the mornings he looks in the bathroom mirror and tries to imagine himself before she left. He tries to see the young man with the soft, smooth skin and a smile on his face.

He can't. Charlie doesn't smile anymore.

When Charlie Swan looks in the mirror in the mornings, he doesn't see reality.. He sees who he wants to be. He can see himself, with far fewer worry lines, holding his arms open for his baby girl, ten years old now. She's growing steadily, but isn't so big that he can't pick her up and swing her in circles while she screams with delight. Her mother, his wife, looks at the two with a happy little smile. It's one of those rare days in Forks: the sun is shining and the air is warm.

When he closes his eyes and opens them again, he doesn't see his fantasy. Staring back at him is a grizzled thirty-something in desperate need of a shave. His pale skin is nearly translucent under his eyes and he can see the purple shadows underneath--yet another reminder of the miserable life he leads. He lathers up and grabs his dull razor. When he's finished, there are several pieces of tissue on his chin where he's cut himself.

"Just let me go, Charlie."

These words have haunted him since she left. Every day he hears her desperation in his thoughts and every time he looks at his sad form in the mirror, the pain of these words hits again. Just thinking of them now sends yet another knife through his heart.

He just isn't enough.

Not enough to keep her with him. Not enough to hold her love. Not enough to recover from the pain she caused.

And he's not enough for his baby girl, either.

When he thinks of his little girl, he remembers the last time he saw her. Ten months ago. Far too long for any loving father. He remembers seeing her get off the plane, escorted by a sunny attendant. He thinks of how he smiled as big as he could and how his heart swelled with warmth and love. He recalls how as soon as he saw her he ran up and opened his arms for a hug. He was just so excited to see his baby girl. His beautiful Bella.

But when he remembers the last time he saw his daughter, he remembers how she just stood there while he tried to hug her. He picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek and she didn't respond.

"Hi, Daddy." was all she had said.

Not "I love you". Not "I've missed you". Not "I'm glad to be here".

Just "Hi, Daddy".

Charlie awakens from his trance when he hears a loud clap of thunder. He dresses quickly, ready for another dull day at the station. He'll pick up a slice of pizza on his way home. He'll settle into his easy chair in front of the television and hope there's a game on. He'll have a beer and maybe call up his friend Harry. He'll go fishing on Sunday and he won't catch anything. The monotony of his life is crushing.

Every morning Charlie wakes up and looks in the mirror. Every day he sees the same half-life he's been living for years. Every evening he can see the pain lines in his face growing deeper.

Charlie Swan is not a fan of mirrors.


	2. The ABCs of Leah Clearwater

_This is for nadia the demented one's ABC challenge on sillybella's Twilight challenge forum. This was really tough! I hope you like it. It was pretty hard to write and edit and it's definitely not my favorite story but I did appreciate the challenge! This is more of a characterization thing than a story though..._

_Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer._

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Anything she wants, he tells her. But he'll never give her what she really, truly wants. Centuries could pass and she'd still want the same thing.

Doesn't Sam understand that all Leah really wants is him?

Even though she despises him, wants to make him hurt as much as she does, wants to punish him, she can still find those remnants of love if she looks (or even if she doesn't). Facing him now is worse than death and Leah wonders why she's even still here.

Giving up is out of the question. Her heart may be splintered and her spirit broken, but Leah will stick it out. If she left now, she wouldn't know where to go and being away from him would only make her broken heart ache more. Just staying in La Push is easier than trying to escape.

Kissing others (and she has since then, in a half-hearted attempt to forget) never compares to kissing Sam. Like loving vampires or leaving the pack, it just goes against her nature.

Most of the other wolves find her a burden, a realization almost as painful as finding out Sam loved Emily. Never will she let them know how deep this cuts her. Over and over, Leah thinks malicious thoughts in an attempt to assert her independence. Part of her believes this pathetic attempt, but the rational part knows that as long as she's a member of the pack, she's servant to the alpha.

Quests for happiness find no treasure. Running is her only form of relief now, but she can usually hear the thoughts of the pack in the background, breaking the silence.

Silence--what an inaccurate word. Taking her wolf form won't help, since the pack can hear her. Usually she tries to stay human to get away from the voices, but La Push is so small that she always runs into another one of the pack. Very rarely can Leah actually find true silence that allows her to sit and think, mulling over her feeble existence.

Waiting is Leah's last option and the only way she'll ever be happy. X chromosomes are in abundance here, unfortunately. Yearning for the impossible isn't going to change her depressing situation and she's terrified her whole life is going to remain the way it is now. Zealously, Leah decides she WILL escape--if only to get her mind off the truth.

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**Please review!**

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	3. Mistake

_This began as a 100 word drabble (prompt: 'Mistke') for Twilight100 on Live Journal--but once I started, I couldn't stop writing! Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer._

_**AU--Bella has been living in Forks and Edward is the new kid.**_

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He catches her scent his first day of school. Hints of freesia and strawberries here and there...

On his second day of school, he strolls into the biology classroom and takes a breath. He is suddenly accosted by the powerful smell emanating from the small girl in the corner. His throat is searing and he isn't really thinking anymore....

...as he leaps over the desk and sinks his teeth into her neck. The warm blood leaking into his throat is like nothing he's ever tasted. Sweet and warm and so incredibly satisfying. She's empty before he notices the shocked looks of his classmates.

Reason begins to retake control of his mind and he realizes what comes next. He swiftly makes his way through the room, snapping necks as softly as he can. No one even has a chance to scream.

Alice comes bolting into the classroom, anxious to stop him if she's indeed seen the future. But she hasn't; this was a spontaneous decision. Edward takes one look at her face, then jumps out the window to the ground, three stories beneath the classroom. He takes off running.

He reaches the house and runs through the door, almost crashing into Esme. She stops potting flowers to see what's wrong and regrets that she did. He speeds through a slurred explanation and is out the door with a suitcase before she can even set down the trowel.

He's in Alaska before nightfall. Instead of stopping in to say hello to Tanya, he lies outside under the stars, letting himself slowly be buried by the falling snow. He finally lets his mind open up as he stares at the night sky.

The empty silence surrounds him and makes the day's events seem so much worse. He had ruthlessly murdered an innocent child. He had slaughtered another twenty so he wouldn't leave witnesses. He had committed a massacre to taste that girl's blood.

How will he live with himself, with the guilt? Italy crosses his mind and he jumps up, ready to run to the airport in Juneau. He'd be in the air in two hours and in Europe in fifteen. Then it would be at least another hour to Volterra...and ten minutes after that he would be gone forever...

He relishes the idea before he remembers the others. Could he really be so selfish and cause his family more pain?

Standing there, he thinks again about what he has done. Mistake, mistake, mistake. Mistake after mistake.

Moving back to Forks, taking AP Biology, running away, drinking her blood--all one giant, messy mistake.

Italy it is then.


End file.
